


Sticking Point

by Tadpole4176



Series: Snapshot [4]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Protective Erik, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 08:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12031848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tadpole4176/pseuds/Tadpole4176
Summary: Finally, after being stuck as kids for so long, Snapshot is working to get Charles and Erik back into their normal, adult bodies, but - of course - things are never simple, especially when the authorities would like a word with Charles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sat on my computer for ages, and I finally got to the point where it needed to get out - so if comes off as a little rushed I apologise. Fingers crossed it's still fun to see how things all work out :)

Charles sat comfortably in his chair in the gigantic round room that was Cerebro, rebuilt and fully working – at least, it had been up until this morning. Now he was watching as Erik and Hank poured over circuit boards and huge metal panels, conversing in hushed voices.

He wasn’t sure why they were whispering, if he wanted to listen, he didn’t need to use his ears, but Charles was enjoying simply watching, seeing two of his friends cooperating so well, and revelling in the use of their powers. Or Erik’s powers, at least, Charles wasn’t certain that Hank’s powers were really much help with circuit boards, unless the agility afforded his body also affected his brain – he was certainly an agile thinker.

Charles wasn’t even really watching properly, just happy to be quiet in his own little world for a while, not worrying too much about actually being little – say, around 3 years old – at the moment, or Erik only being marginally bigger, or what he was going to do if he had to grow up all over again. Erik and Hank barely even noticed any more.

Although, granted, his current size may have had some influence on their current activities.

Erik was determined that Hank could make the machine more energy efficient, not to save the planet, but to save Charles.

And whilst Charles thought it was quite unnecessary, he really had been quite tired last time, and it was a nice thought.

And he loved watching Erik work.

And apparently Charles’ thoughts had leaked out of his brain a little at that moment, because the object of his attention turned to look at him, smiling.

“It’s looking good, Charles,” said Erik. “Hank is quite confident that once we’ve completed these changes Cerebro will draw far less energy from you and your powers.”

Charles grinned back, certain it was the first time that Erik had ever been impressed by anything that Hank had done, except possibly for turning himself blue. “It’s amazing, Erik, what you and Hank can achieve.”

Hank turned to them at the mention of his name. “Thank you, Professor, I’m hoping this will make Cerebro far more effective in the long run too.”

Erik raised an eyebrow, Hank’s words temporarily disturbing their unusual camaraderie.

“But primarily it will ensure that a single session on Cerebro won’t result in you spending the entire day in bed, Professor,” Hank added hurriedly, his eyes straying to Erik even as he addressed Charles.

Charles blushed, more than a little embarrassed at spending an entire day in bed, but before he could respond he found himself distracted.

“Erik, Hank, we shall have to continue this later, I do believe we have visitors.” 

“Marvellous,” responded Erik. “Anyone we actually want to see?”

Charles frowned. “Someone official, not CIA though.”

Hank looked down at himself. “I might stay here,” he suggested.

“Perhaps we should all stay here,” put in Erik, looking pointedly down at Charles. “I’m sure Moira can handle whoever it is, she might not appreciate you sticking your oar in.”

“This is my school, I should be there!” protested Charles, staring defiantly at Erik even as a small voice within him nodded along with Erik.

“Charles,” said Erik, calmly, his eyebrows doing more of the talking than his mouth.

“Right,” sighed Charles, trying not to let the wave of uselessness take him too far down. “I’m here to help in classes and to find new mutants, but not to run the school just at the minute.”

“You can run the school too, if you like,” pointed out Hank, “you just can’t be the public face of it right now.” He shrugged, self-consciously flattening a section of fur on his arm. “You’re not alone with that, it’s not so bad.”

“Remember, Charles,” nudged Erik. “You are not alone.”

Charles smiled weakly, recognising the words he had spoken to Erik what felt like a millennium ago.

“Plus you can eavesdrop,” added Hank.

                                                                        **********

Moira strode out to meet their visitors, absently smoothing her skirt down and questioning who they were and what they might want under her breath as she did so, well aware from Jean’s report that this was no ordinary stray mutant or visiting neighbour.

But who?

She didn’t have to wait long. Taking a deep breath before entering the room Jean had led their guests to, a small, disused sitting room close to the front door, Moira introduced herself.

“Good afternoon, I’m Moira MacTaggert, how can I help you?”

The woman, a reasonably tall woman probably only a few years older than Moira with straight, dark hair, glasses and particularly pale skin spoke first. “Ah, Miss MacTaggert, we’re from the state schools authority, we’re here to make our first inspection. I’m Mary Reed, and this is my colleague Ulrich Langer.”

Moira held out her hand to shake theirs, her mouth adding, “A pleasure to meet you,” even as her mind reached out to Charles. <Help!>

                                                                        **********

 

Charles flinched, causing both Erik and Hank to peer at him in concern. “Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly, “Moira shouted me when I was already listening in.”

“She’s concerned?” asked Erik, his powers already reaching out to grab a handful of nearby metal and vibrate it, just enough for Charles to notice. “Who is it?”

“State school inspectors,” sighed Charles.

“Oh my,” said Hank, his alarm at the idea of inspectors apparently far more significant than any concerns over being attacked.

“You’d prefer an attack?” poked Charles.

Hank nearly stuttered, and Charles was certain that had he not been blue he would have been blushing. “Well, we’ve had more practice at that,” he defended himself.

Charles turned back to Moira and the inspectors, reaching out to their visitors to try to understand what they required, all the while cursing himself for getting distracted from the official procedures by shrinking and defending mutant kind from Shaw and finding Scott and Jean and… well that was really just ridiculous. But, of course, rather difficult to explain to these people why it was ridiculous.

He suspected that the brilliant Jean’s ability to be understanding probably didn’t spread to the average bystander, or say, school inspector. Plus, to be fair, he and Erik had both been quite surprised that Jean had agreed to come along with them once she’d seen that they looked like two kids, rather than the fully grown adult projection he’d maintained for her parents. Looking back, Charles was really quite grateful Scott hadn’t required that level of subterfuge; Scott had a slightly different perspective than Jean, no matter how well they got on, surprises like that tended not to go down well.

Being small was certainly putting a crimp in their recruitment plans. 

And possibly their school plans too, at this point.

“Just change their minds, Charles,” prodded Erik, bringing him back to the present. “Let them leave happy.”

“Oh, my friend, I can’t do that. I just…” Charles searched for the words. “If I do that now, we’ll never get this school legitimately off the ground. And, well, I don’t do that to people.”

Erik rolled his eyes but said no more, apparently well aware of Charles’ principles regarding long term persuasion.

                                                                        *********

Several hours later, Erik wished he’d pushed Charles a little harder.

Erik was sat quietly in one of the rooms they used for teaching, doing his best to appear to be reading a Charles Dickens novel, as he was well aware that he would appear to be one of the students, a fact that he wasn’t ignoring, despite Charles’ insistence that he should be sticking with something easier.

Easier or not, Erik was quite certain that he wouldn’t be able to answer questions on an easier novel without actually reading it, whereas Oliver Twist would be no problem, which gave him more time to keep an eye on Charles and his fidgeting.

Charles obviously wanted to go and help Moira. Periodically, as Mary or Ulrich would find some other piece of paperwork undone, Charles would mutter under his breath and curse himself for forgetting it, despite everything they’d been through since first deciding to run a school. But when the inspectors tried to observe Alex taking a lesson, Charles nearly choked on his tea.

It wasn’t, Erik observed, especially convenient to have inspectors in when two of your four members of teaching staff are in child form, another is hiding because he’s blue and the fourth is tied up showing the inspectors round. They were lucky Alex hadn’t accidentally shot one of them.

Charles hadn’t really seen the funny side of that.

Erik didn’t see the funny side of the result. He glared meaningfully at Mary, though the expression seemed to slide right off her as she patted him on the head.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said, “I’m sure Professor Xavier will be able to get this school up and running soon, and in the meantime you’ll be able to go to Greenvale School, we’ve already checked they’ve got space for you. Just think of all the new friends your own age you’ll be able to make there.”

<My own age?> Erik grumbled silently to Charles, regretting it slightly when he nearly choked again.

“And you,” Mary knelt down to address Charles. “I realise you’re not big enough for school yet, Sweetie, but while all the others are at school and the teachers are working on getting this place off the ground, you could try preschool – in the same place as your friend Erik.”

Charles swallowed heavily, filling Erik’s head with an air of heavy dread so strongly that he was surprised Mary didn’t notice.

“Do I have to?” asked Charles, barely above a whisper.

Mary smiled at him gently, “Well, no, of course not, but I really think the opportunity to play with some children your own age might benefit you and give the grown ups time to do all their big jobs. And think of all the toys,” she glanced back at Moira, leaving Erik in no doubt as to what she was thinking.

There were no toys suitable for a child of Charles’ apparent age anywhere.

“This is a school for the gifted, Ms Reed,” put in Moira, pointedly. “Ch-Charlie has a remarkable understanding of the world around him and isn’t terribly interested in toys for younger children. I feel the advantage of a school this size is its ability to cater for the children as individuals, don’t you?”

“This, Ms MacTaggert, is not a school yet. But if you sort everything out, including letting Charlie have his opportunities, as well as the others, then we’ll come back so that you can prove to us how well your way works later.”

Moira glanced at Charles, a look of sympathy crossing her face, then turned back to Mary. Erik suspected that she wasn’t far off losing her temper, but then Moira was a CIA agent, she knew when to keep her cool.

Still, Mary was particularly annoying.

For a few moments Erik fantasised about hurling a nearby lamp at her, or possibly persuading her to visit the kitchen with him and making use of one of the possibilities there.

<I can see what you’re thinking, my friend,> nudged Charles, his face no longer pale and panicked from the shock of being sent to preschool.

Of course, Charles could be sociable pretty much anywhere, conceded Erik, he’d probably be fine.

Erik, on the other hand, was a natural misfit. He’d be lucky to get through this without committing murder. At least Jean and Scott were real kids – even if they were going to be so many grades above him they’d be in a different school.

Next time Erik was definitely going to get Charles to do some persuading.


	2. Chapter 2

Erik flopped into his designated seat, the only chair left in the classroom for unscheduled late arrivals like him. Day 2 of who knew how many. Not to mention, they were working on recent history in this class, talking about the second world war, and Erik was finding it difficult to keep his mouth shut when the ridiculous – American – history teacher kept talking about the war starting in 1940 instead of 1939 and making wildly inaccurate statements about the Jews, Nazis and anyone else Erik could care to mention.

It was safe to say that Erik’s experiences hadn’t been deemed appropriate for a second grade classroom.

Finally, the class let everyone out for play time, and Erik heaved a sigh of relief. Not that he wanted to play, but at least that meant that history was over and they could move onto something less controversial – like math. Erik was reasonably confident he could manage to keep quiet and off the radar during math without spontaneously combusting from frustration.

Of course, first he had to survive playtime.

There, in the playground, right in front of him no less, Reggie was picking on a tall but quiet little boy called Kian. Not a mutant, as far as Erik could tell – although he supposed lots of mutants might not have manifested yet at this age – but he reminded Erik a lot of a younger Hank, clever but unsure of himself. Not to mention a natural pacifist, like Charles.

Reggie, who had no such qualms about hitting people, was apparently not getting the response he wanted from Kian, and shifting from verbal abuse to physical.

Erik really didn’t like bullies.

Without even looking directly at the scene, Erik silently melted Reggie’s belt buckle, sending his trousers down to his ankles and distracting Reggie from his lust for violence.

Kian, sensibly, moved away as fast as his legs would carry him.

Reggie, unexpectedly, headed directly for Erik, his hand clutching the top of his trousers.

“You,” he growled.

“Me?” said Erik, acknowledging him with a barely raised brow and an air of disinterest.

“Yeah, you. Mr Bentham told us what you were.”

Erik’s rage, barely beneath the surface after enduring their recent history lesson, began to bubble to the surface. “And what am I?”

“You’re one of those mutants, Mr Bentham said so.”

“Those mutants?” asked Erik, gritting his teeth by now in an effort not to get sent home on his second day for decapitating someone.

“The ones who destroyed all those police stations.”

Then again, considered Erik, surely it would only be manslaughter and he wasn’t old enough to go to jail. Plus, presumably, he’d be expelled.

Reggie, sensing that the conversation was at an end, pulled back his fist and punched Erik on the jaw, hard enough to send Erik flying into the playground on his ass. Erik pulled himself up, sore but not by any means defeated, and feeling entirely righteous for resisting using his powers further, swung his right fist up to meet Reggie’s stomach.

Reggie went down, hard, howling louder than Erik had really believed someone of that size could. It was bad enough to trigger a brief moment of guilt that he might have actually hurt him – not that he didn’t deserve it, but Erik was quite certain he would turn out to be more trouble than he was worth later. Plus Charles would probably sulk.

“That was amazing,” whispered Kian from behind Erik’s shoulder. “No one’s ever hit him back before.”

See, Charles, Erik told thin air, ‘Hank’ approves.

                                                                        **************

“Erik,” sighed Charles, “how did you manage to end up in the Principal’s office after only 2 days?”

Erik peered down at his friend, frustrated by his lack of understanding. “How do you want me to explain this, Charles. There was a bully, picking on a Hank lookalike, I discouraged him, he hit me, I hit him back harder.”

“Why does it always descend into violence with you, Erik. Two days! Mary could shut us down for being a bad influence.”

“I’ve never hit any of you,” protested Erik, before thinking slightly harder. “Well, not recently anyway.”

“You need to lay low, Erik,” persisted Charles, his tiny finger pointing at Erik demandingly. “No more violence.”

“Listen to me, Charles. The day we stop standing up to bullies is the day we all die.”

Spinning on his heal, without giving Charles the opportunity to respond further, Erik left, marching determinedly out of the room and leaving his friend behind, his finger still pointed at the now empty space. He didn’t return all evening.

                                                                        ********

Charles stumbled into bed, eyelids beyond heavy after pushing himself way beyond his three year old body’s limits, barely able to climb into the bed and pull the covers over himself. Suddenly, for the first time since they’d escaped from Shaw, he was truly alone.

Charles knew he didn’t like being alone in the dark, not in this body. He couldn’t explain it beyond a general feeling of vulnerability, an instinctive knowledge that he should be scared of the dark when he was so small. It didn’t matter. He also knew that Erik was too cross to come and keep him company, or let Charles keep him company in his room. So he was going to have to get over it.

He clambered into the bed and lay on top of it, rigid, with his eyes resolutely shut.

Was wearing himself out going to work?

Charles waited.

Exhausted, he fell asleep.

It was nearly 3am when he woke again, his heart pounding as he shook off the remnants of an ugly dream, the images already evaporating leaving Charles unsure whether his nightmares were focusing on Shaw or the awareness that tomorrow everyone was going to leave him alone in a nursery school with a gang of three year olds. Either way, sleep no longer felt accessible, not without Erik. Groaning, Charles sat up in bed, reaching out to turn on his small bedside light.

Read? Charles looked around. There was certainly no shortage of books available to him, but nothing that was jumping out at him.

Charles lay back in bed, fully awake and well aware that he shouldn’t be. In his mind, his argument with Erik seemed to be stuck in a permanent loop – reminding him of how easily he and Erik differed. Often, of course, it led to enjoyable, if frustrating, debate, but sometimes – like today – it led to separation. Charles wasn’t sure how many times he’d ended up lying in bed wondering if he should have phrased things differently, wondering if Erik would suddenly decide he’d had enough and leave, wondering if they would ever reach a point where they could agree. This was no different, Charles reminded himself, merely harder. Frowning to himself, Charles tried to move his brain along, well aware that fretting over an argument – whoever it may have been with – rarely brought any revelations in the middle of the night. He should be designing the school’s curriculum. Or, perhaps, working out how to get through a day with a bunch of three year olds.

Charles sighed, inside his head wasn’t helping at all. Silently, he reached his awareness out across the house feeling the other minds around him, carefully dodging Erik’s room, he wasn’t ready for that yet and Erik needed time to cool down.

The majority of the house’s occupants were sleeping peacefully, Charles caught glimpses of random dreams about everything from mutant powers to last night’s movie. There was one other mind awake though. Charles quickly jumped out of bed and padded out into the corridor.

Raven.

It had been a while, but it had never been exactly uncommon for Charles and Raven to be awake and keeping each other company in the night. Whatever the reasons, then or now, his sister would provide a welcome distraction from his thoughts.

                                                                        ***********

Raven was the one to drop Charles off at the preschool in the morning too. He knew, really, that they had to go through with it to please the inspectors and to prove that they had nothing to hide, but Charles couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed as she led him in through the door.

They’d had such a good night together.

<Stay, Raven, please?> Charles looked up at her. <I’m sure you could pull off three year old much better than I could.>

<What are you trying to say to me, Charles?> Raven raised her eyebrows, almost looking angry, though the briefest brush of her thoughts left Charles with a wave of amusement and a significant volume of guilt.

Charles smiled, pushing down his feelings of betrayal as he admitted to himself that actually she had to do this. “Bye, Raven,” he said, quietly, taking himself into the room and refusing to linger and forcing a member of staff to chase Raven out of the room. He supposed walking right in alone on your first day probably wasn’t how it was done, in hindsight. So much for making things easier.

Or blending in.

He paused to take stock of his surroundings, noting the various items for drawing, a reading corner, some Lego, dressing up clothes and an entire child-sized play kitchen. The reading corner seemed like a good bet, really. Charles headed off to it, finding the other children his size oddly intimidating. Somehow, older kids and adults – unless they were directly after him like Shaw anyway – would go out of their way not to be intimidating, whereas kids his size were just a little bit brutal.   

Not to mention the swirling mass of emotions in the room. Charles was fairly certain even ten minutes in this place was going to give him a headache, if he was going to have to endure it for any length of time, he might have to get Hank to think up some sort of emotion blocker – possibly disguised as a fireman’s helmet or something – just to get him through the day.

Charles reached the books, quickly grabbing the nearest and leaping into a space on the sofa before anyone had the opportunity to object.

“Hello, Charlie,” a particularly friendly voice greeted him.

He looked up. The voice belonged to a young nursery worker, with a big smile and glasses balanced slightly precariously on her nose. Her mind was practically erupting waves of reassurance and sympathy.

“I’m Kelly,” she added.

Charles smiled, finding himself almost reluctant to speak.

“Do you want to read a story?”

“It’s no trouble,” replied Charles, hastily, “I was going to do it myself.”

Kelly gaped at him, reminding him for a moment why it was he’d been reluctant to speak. Then, thankfully, she got over it. “Can you read, Charlie?” she asked, clearly impressed.

He nodded. “I like reading,” he added, hoping that was a reasonably safe thing to say.

“What’s your favourite book?”

“The Once…” Oh. Charles panicked, quickly turning round to gaze at the shelves behind him. “This one?” he suggested, holding up a Dr Seuss book timidly.

“We have other books if you want to come and have a look,” offered Kelly. “Sometimes people donate books that are a bit too tricky to just leave in the playroom, you can come and take a look if you like.”

Charles brightened, a genuine smile creeping across his face, allowing Kelly to take his hand and lead him out through the inescapable-to-three-year-olds door.

                                                                        ***************

“So let me get this straight, Snapshot,” Alex interrupted what sounded like it was going to become an explanation worthy of Hank, “you feel bad about shrinking Charles and Erik and causing all this trouble, and you want me to help you fix it?”

“Well, yeah,” grinned Colin, looking hopefully at Alex. “Shaw proved that energy interferes with my powers, so if we work at it, we could really have a shot.”

Alex eyed him cautiously. “You’re aware of what normally happens when I use my powers?”

Colin nodded, unperturbed by Alex’s reluctance. “I’m aware, wouldn’t it be good to channel them into this instead of blowing up dummies and trees?”

Alex sighed. “I guess so. How is this going to be different from you winding back time after I shoot things though? We’ve done that loads of times, no one ever got older or younger.”

Colin rolled his eyes, though his unflappable demeanour showed no sign of breaking. “I knew you weren’t listening. It’s different because now we go at the same time.”

“Won’t that mean I could hit the person we’re trying to change?”

Alex saw visions of his old jail cell, from before Charles and Erik came to find him. Or possibly his dismembered body if he hit Charles and not Erik. Although, in the circumstances, maybe that would be better. Surely, after all those practice sessions together, Colin knew what he was talking about? Just how much destructive power Alex had at his fingertips.

“You won’t hit them – I’ll use the energy up.”

“But I do have to aim at them?”

“Well, in the vicinity. It might be an idea to aim a bit to one side.”

“And where do they come in? Other than not being needed by Hank or Moira right now. Have you two heard the craziness that is Colin’s plan?” Alex gestured at Sean and Darwin, both looking increasingly concerned.

The penny dropped.

“You’re test subjects?”

Sean was the first to speak up. “I’m not sure that the ‘getting hit by Alex’s power’ part was made entirely clear when you mentioned it, Col.”

Darwin waved him off. “Then we’ll start with me,” he shrugged.

“Yes, certainly, Darwin, though there is some concern that you might be resistant to being changed too.”

“Great,” muttered Sean. “Alex, if you hit me then I’m not letting you have my record collection anymore.”

“You’re not gonna die, Sean. It’ll be fine,” Colin moved over to him and patted him on the shoulder. “We will start with Darwin though, I promise.”

“Perfect, that’ll give me time to sort out my affairs. Think Charles might like my cuddly toys, now that he’s little?”

                                                                        *************

Happier than he’d anticipated, Charles sat ensconced on the small sofa in the playroom, the hustle and bustle of the other children largely passing him by, reading A. A. Milne’s “Winnie the Pooh.” He could feel the occasional glances of the nursery staff, worrying a little that he seemed so separate from the others, but underlying that he could feel that everyone found their first days difficult. That, whilst he was being a little odd, many small children would take themselves away from the others when they first arrived.

Hopefully, Charles thought, he wouldn’t be around long enough to start to really worry them about socialisation.

In the meantime, Pooh bear made for a pretty good distraction.

“Charlie?”

Charles looked up to see a small girl with crazy, curly blonde hair that seemed to fly in every direction from her head and a distinctly grey stuffed polar bear tucked under her arm.

“Yes?”

“Can you read to me and Bear?” she asked. “The picture says it’s a story about a bear too.”

“It is,” replied Charles, finding himself suddenly rather pleased. Was he actually making a friend? Granted, she was only 3, but it felt good nonetheless. “It’s about a bear called Winnie the Pooh.”

The girl giggled. “That’s a funny name. Poo!”

Charles had to smile, the girl – Chloe, he picked out from her mind – just made him want to join in. He shuffled up on the sofa, making sure there was plenty of room for her, pleased to have an accomplice in his reading.

He turned back to the book, before Chloe got impatient and left.

“ ‘I wonder what Piglet is doing,’ thought Pooh.” Charles read aloud.

                                                                        *************

Erik slumped down on the very edge of the playground, desperate to avoid any sort of contact with any of the kids. Whilst not as bad as history, having to sit through elementary mathematics and English was nonetheless wearing his patience for school rather thin. He had barely listened to any of what the teacher was saying, instead staring into space and thinking about Charles with a heavy mix of frustration and fondness.

As he’d finally exited the classroom, he’d noticed that Reggie was steering well clear of him – certainly a good sign – Kian and some of his friends had clearly considered approaching but been easily deterred by a healthy glare in their direction. Erik had had enough of geeks – big and little – at home.

Still, sitting alone in the playground, after two such boring lessons, was giving him way too much time to think. Silently, dumping the remains of his apple on the ground, Erik got up and crept to the fence, vanishing through it before anyone had the opportunity to notice.

                                                                        ************

Charles found himself in his element reading the book to Chloe, reminding him again of the appeal of running a school and filling his house with children, even if they were unlikely to be as young as his new friend. Despite the fact that Chloe continually interrupted to ask him questions about the characters or to make some comment about puddles, honey and a variety of other experiences she recognised. That was the nature of the curious, Charles knew, thinking once more of Erik and his questioning of every decision Charles ever made, every opinion Charles held.

When they got to the end of a chapter, Chloe slowly slid off the sofa, holding her hand out to Charles. “Do you want to come play ghosts with me and Erik?”

“Erik?” said Charles, surprised.

Chloe nodded seriously. “He’s my best friend,” she said, pointing to a small blond boy who was just stretching after a nap.

Charles smiled. “I have a friend called Erik too,” he told her.

“A different Erik?” asked Chloe. “That’s funny. Well, we call my Erik Kiki anyway.”

She ran over to her Erik - Kiki, leaving Charles to deal with an odd, tight feeling in his chest, wondering how long he and his Erik might take to make up. If they did - as loathe as he was to admit it, Charles knew that one day they might reach that point, too many disagreements to go back. Though, when he thought about it objectively, this didn’t really feel like the final straw.

Quickly, despite Kiki’s recent awakening, Charles found himself ducking and dodging a series of imaginary ghosts, often (apparently) possessing the other children in the room. Chloe and Kiki seemed to weave their way in and out of the others with ease, turning on a dime when it looked certain they were going to crash into someone. Charles, however, didn’t seem to have that knack. As he launched himself into chasing the two of them through the cluttered room, he found that sudden turns weren’t his forte as he collided headlong with another, bigger boy, sending both of them sprawling to the ground.

“Sorry,” sprang from his throat without even mentioning it was on its way to his brain and Charles carefully picked himself up and rubbed his, now sore, knees. He reached out to the other boy, well aware that he was several inches taller, and therefore needed to get up on his own.

“Are you OK?” asked Charles, peering through his thoroughly dishevelled hair.

“You did that on purpose!” yelled the boy, his small flailing fist catching Charles on the shoulder and sending him tumbling back down, nearly catching Chloe as he fell.

“He hurt me!” the boy yelled again, startling Charles into reversing several steps on his backside, even as the boy followed him.

“What are you doing?”

Suddenly, and completely unexpectedly, the boy was lifted away from Charles, apparently by the collar of his T-shirt, which – even to Charles’ rather addled senses - didn’t seem like anything any of the nursery assistants would do.

Then he saw what was holding him.

Erik. His Erik.

No matter their disagreements.

And right by his side, Chloe and Kiki, tiny hands on hips glaring at his attacker.

“You heard him,” said Chloe angrily, “what are you doing, Tom? He bumped you by accident, and he said sorry.”

Both Eriks nodded, each glaring at Tom as they waited for an answer.

They didn’t get one.

As the wailing continued, Kelly appeared and, once she’d ensured that they were all OK, took Tom off to calm down.

Chloe and Kiki, relieved by the removal of the wailing, angry boy, shot off to continue their game, but Charles didn’t even consider following them.

“Erik,” he whispered, reaching up to touch his chest. “I missed you.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

The door to the office banged shut mere moments after the front door swallowed Raven, Scott, Jean and a reluctant Charles and Erik on their way to school, and the coast was finally clear. Darwin, as nominated look out, slipped back into the kitchen to inform his co-conspirators.

“All clear,” he whispered, unnecessarily.

“Moira?” asked Alex, looking more nervous of her than he had been of Erik.

“Office with Hank. There are mountains of forms to fill in and those inspector dudes are due back whenever they feel like it. No way those guys are looking for us unless we disturb them.”

“Good as it’s getting,” nodded Colin, cracking his fingers as he stood up. “You guys ready?” he looked over at Sean, who as yet seemed to be only partially arise from bed.

“Wherever you need me,” he agreed, without actually looking up from his cheerios.

The four of them slipped out, carefully avoiding the common areas and making their way to a little used back door into the garden.

“Outside, just in case,” whispered Colin.

“Great,” muttered Sean. “Just make sure your just in case covers Alex being a rotten shot.”

Colin coughed, “Snapshot, remember, I’ll just rewind.”

“Ouch,” winced Darwin, glancing over at Sean.

“You won’t remember,” Colin reminded them.

Behind the house, the trees opened around them, swallowing their argument as they reached their destination, well away from the house. The trees swayed in the light wind, but other than that it was silent but for the sounds of their feet, no sign of even the gardener for miles.

Safe.

Colin nodded to himself, satisfied. “Here.”

“Come on, man,” said Darwin, taking Sean’s shoulder and ushering him a few metres from Colin and Alex.

For a moment, the two pairs of them stood sharing at each other, contemplative. Then, Alex turned to Colin.

“We going for this then?”

“Yeah. On three.”

Alex nodded, his lips pressing into a line of concentration.

“3, 2, 1, go!”

In the silence of the trees it was like an implosion of red light and sound, and then just as quickly it all seemed to be sucked back in as though it had never been there.

Gasping, Snapshot first took a moment to make sure that everyone seemed uninjured, checking Sean in particular for any signs of harm. Any reason to take their test back.

Instead, he saw an old man, grinning and waving at him.

“Awesome, Colin. Look at me!”

All three of them looked, astonished. Instead of a lanky teenager, there stood a – well – lanky grandfather, grinning at them with Sean’s mouth.

“That’s amazing,” gasped Alex, bridging the gap and reaching out his hand to touch Sean’s face, as though it was an illusion.

“We did it!” choked Snapshot, astonished. “We can actually fix the Professor and Magneto.”

“And me,” added Sean. “When I’ve had a bit of time to play.”

He paused for a moment, an array of thoughts hurtling across his face.

“Don’t suppose you could wind back a little – before I show Moira?”

“I…” began Colin.

“It’d be extra practice. Better than upsetting Erik, man.”

                                                                        *************

Charles watched his new little friends with fascination, doing his best to ignore the waves of concern he could feel targeted at him by Kelly, the nursery teacher – apparently watching didn’t count as joining in. His friends were running around pretending to be dinosaurs, something Charles didn’t feel qualified to do, other than supplying the odd roar, and they seemed to be having a brilliant time, waving their fake tails, occasionally laying eggs, and really roaring quite a bit.

He glanced down at the dinosaur fact book Chloe had handed him. Apparently, they were currently pretending to be velociraptors, but they’d been various herbivores before that, and he was quite enjoying rolling with it and reading out the odd fact when Chloe or Kiki came to ask. He was just debating suggesting a change of character, in fact, when a startled flare from Chloe’s mind, and an angry flash of Kiki’s caught his attention.

He looked up again. There, in front of his two friends, stood a taller boy with dark brown hair and huge dark eyes that, had he been doing anything else would have looked absolutely adorable. Except, he had grabbed the end of Chloe’s dinosaur tail and was shaking her by it, telling her that girls weren’t allowed to play with the dinosaurs’ things and she should give him the tail and go and play cooking with the girls right now.

Charles stood up, still uncertain how to approach this in his current environment, but sure that he should do something.

Chloe’s hands were on her hips, and though tears were streaming quietly down her face, she was telling the boy in no uncertain terms how wrong he was.

Charles dithered, casting a look over to see if Kelly or one of the other nursery teachers had noticed yet. Maybe he should get one of them?

But Kiki wasn’t thinking about getting help. Or backing down. With one swift motion, Kiki shoved the bully out of the way and disengaged him from Chloe’s dinosaur tail, throwing in a decisive roar into the bargain. Naturally, the other boy fell over and burst into tears, but Charles felt he rather deserved it at this point, and it was obvious that Kelly – who by now had noticed the fracas – somewhat agreed.

“Interesting, Charles,” said a familiar voice behind him, making him jump, and quickly spin away from the scene of the crime to look her in the face.

“You’re early, Raven!”

“You’ve got double standards, Charles. You think that boy did the right thing.”

“I…” he paused, considering. “I do. It’s a little bit different though, no one suffered any lasting hurt.”

“Nor did the boy at Erik’s school. Or many of the people in Erik’s past. He’s simply standing up for his friends,” she countered.

Charles frowned.

“Think about it, little brother,” she teased him. “And remember what I said when we rescue Erik from his latest incident.”

                                                                        ***********

“Nice,” nodded Sean, admiring himself in the mirror. “Good job Snapshot, Mom and Dad, I can definitely get by like this.”

“Who are y…? Sean?” Sean turned to discover a horrified Moira staring up at him.

“What do you think?” he grinned, quirking an eyebrow at her as she continued to stare at him.

“What did you do?” she exclaimed, her exasperation with him winning through, “How…?” she paused. “Snapshot. You let him experiment on you? Without even talking to me or Hank – or Charles or Erik – first! You could have been killed! What were you thinking?”

“I…. Moira, it was fine. Snapshot could wind us back if it went wrong.”

“And what if the attempt somehow drained him?”

Sean simply stared at her. “I’m good, Moira, really – and look at me!” He took a quite glance in the mirror again.

“I do have an idea for how you can use that face to redeem yourself, actually,” said Moira, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“Why do I not like the sound of that?” asked Sean, casting about nervously as Moira pushed him towards the office.

“I have just the job for you.”

                                                                        *************

Erik sighed, taking in the mess someone – though he wasn’t struggling to imagine who – had made of his desk. His books, stationery and his lunch were all scattered about the area surrounding his desk. Some of it broken, some ground into the floor, some simply removed untidily from his desk. Naturally, his lunch had been crushed to the point where it was entirely inedible – even if he had been prepared to eat it from the floor. Of course, he supposed if he’d actually been seven there was a much stronger chance of him being willing to eat from the floor.

But he wasn’t seven, and he’d considered the state of the floors around the school, so that was really all quite unnecessary. Overkill.

As his anger rose, primarily on behalf of mutant children in his position, rather than himself, he wondered what Charles would suggest. Would he say he should have spoken to Reggie, or his followers? Would he recommend telling a teacher?

Erik wasn’t sure. In fact, in this instance, he wasn’t sure he truly cared. This whole excursion into a school was, more than anything, showing him the worthiness of Charles’ cause. Young mutants needed a place where they could feel safe, and if that had to be built on himself and Charles having a few rough days, well, it really wasn’t that important. Somehow, even in the body of a seven year old, a grown man attacking an idiot child seemed wrong.

Maybe later he could have a word with the parents. Erik’s lip curled at the thought, as he reached out his powers and with the aid of book staples and a few metallic pencil ends levitated the majority of his stuff back into his desk. Picking up what remained of his lunch by hand and shoving it on top, Erik then grabbed his coat and headed for the playground.

“Stop right there!”

He turned, surprised, to find Mr Bentham, the class teacher, looming over him, apparently apoplectic with rage and not at the state of Erik’s belongings.

“Problem?” asked Erik, in no mood to deal with the man just now.

“You are gone, mister!” the teacher practically screamed at him. “There will be none of that business in my classroom, you’re a danger to us. A monster. A freak! Get out!”

Quietly, outside the teacher’s notice, a sliver of one of the desk’s legs began to slide off the leg and whirl in the air, buzzing around the teacher’s head like an angry insect as the man forcibly marched Erik out of the classroom and down the corridor to the principal’s office. Most of the pupils were outside, but they were still greeted by a few stunned faces, staring at the scene they made, and each one of them fed into Erik’s anger.

Why should he be treated this way?

Who were they to allow the Bentham to behave like this?

Would Charles really expect him to give this ridiculous bigot a free pass?

But, of course, he would. Any serious injury to this idiotic man would inevitably find its way back to them. Here, they knew who he was, even if they did think that he was seven years old. Even now, at the height of his rage, Erik could see that openly removing this man from the world would bring nothing good upon them.

Later, there would be time to work something out.

And in the meantime, if it looks like a bee, it can justifiably sting like a bee.

With a twitch of Erik’s fingers, the buzzing metal elongated and, just once, stabbed viciously into the side of the man’s neck, causing him to release Erik in order to grab at the injury even as the metal itself slithered away to join another convenient table leg somewhere.

The teacher looked around frantically, obviously expecting to see and swat the insect, but that was fine, Erik knew that he’d get chance to do his own swatting soon enough.

If he could just manage to get expelled for basically nothing, his mission would be complete.

                                                                        **************

“You want me to what?” Sean glared at Moira. “There’s no way! I can’t sound all posh and British! No chance. And I don’t know anything about the running of the school.”

“You don’t need to sound British, or even know much about the school. You have to look enthusiastic and seem competent. Hank and I have the rest covered, we just need to produce Professor X for a bit – in his own school.”

“What about Raven? She’s great at this sort of thing.”

“Sean, they’re on their way and Raven’s not here. You wanted to look all grown up, it’s time to make use of it. Think of the Professor talking about mutations, or Erik’s tamer speeches about mutants needing to take care of other mutants. Don’t worry about the details of forms and so on. Imagine the Professor hired me as a secretary.”

Sean’s eyebrows raised as he looked back at her, but he resisted commenting. “Right…. Mutations are amazing and we want to teach them in a safe place?”

“Absolutely. And remember not to say ‘Dude’.”

“Moira!”

Laughing grimly, Moira gave Sean a quick shove in the direction of the front door as a sharp knock sounded.

“Ready?”

“Gotta be better than taking on Shaw,” agreed Sean, crossing his fingers behind his back.

                                                                        ************

“Stay here,” whispered Raven, ushering Charles to a chair outside the Principal’s office and shouting loudly in his head.

<Keep an eye out for anything you need to erase.>

Charles winced, trying not to imagine the sort of lines she was thinking along. If someone had really got on the wrong side of Erik. If he’d seen red.

Hopefully not.

He waited, silently nudging staff from worrying about the boy who was too small for school sat outside the office on his own.

And waited.

And listened.

He felt the swirl of emotions from in the room. The suspicions of the Principal. Raven and Erik’s anger. And Erik’s concern, his worry at what young mutants were facing. His horror at how unjustified the teacher had been. How bigoted.

<We need to get the school running, Charles.> He heard in his head. A reminder of why they were really here.

Then, finally, Erik emerged. Expelled, totally unfairly, and thoroughly happy.

                                                                        ***************

Charles almost drifted off on the way home. It was early, but somehow it seemed like it had been a long day, and the emotions swirling round him from Erik and Raven seemed to use up his last reserves of energy. He wondered if he was going to have to go to nursery again, now that Erik couldn’t go to school. Would it really be worth just taking him? After all, Mary might have been quite insistent, but they’d still had leeway to refuse. Charles had mainly avoided making a fuss to support Erik.

Though as he thought about not going back, he did find he missed his little friends. Perhaps they would turn out to be mutants, he mused. Then they could catch him up at his school, even if it might be a while before he could explain who he was.

Unless, of course, Snapshot never managed to turn him back.

“Come on, Charles,” Erik nudged him, revealing their arrival at the mansion.

Already? He must have been daydreaming.

“You seem deep in thought?”

“I’m thinking about the nursery,” admitted Charles, smiling up at Erik. “It wasn’t all bad.”

Erik raised his eyebrow and the words, <I wish I could say the same about school,> drifted through Charles’ head.

Charles could see why he might think that. He followed him into the house, surprised when they were greeted by what seemed to be a party. Only Scott and Jean were missing, still at school, but Moira had apparently broken out some wine, despite the early hour, and everyone was milling about relaxed and happy.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m afraid, my friend, that you’re the one who’s supposed to have a better grasp of that,” returned Erik, waving his fingers in the direction of his forehead.

True.

Charles shrugged, then reached out. <Moira? What’s happening?>

<I think you need to ask Sean, Charles.>

Sean?

Charles studied the room, searching for the lanky teenager amongst tall bodies around him.

Ah, Sean. There, half collapsed against an armchair, grinning wildly at his glass of – likely illegal – wine, sprawled Sean.

<Sean?> Charles spoke to him.

<Prof! Good to see you back!>

<What’s happening, Moira said to ask you?>

<Ah… Prof. Today, I have singlehandedly solved all our problems.>

<You have?>

<Well, OK, I gave serious help though.>

<I meant, which problems?> Charles pressed.

Across the room, Sean smiled again, taking a sip of his drink as Charles walked over. “Mary and Ulrich inspected, and are happy with the forms – and happy to meet Professor X.” He looked at Charles, clearly waiting for him to display his surprise. “And we have figured out how to turn you and the great Magneto back to normal.”

Charles blinked. “How?” he asked, simply.

“Just take a look, Prof. I’ve got no secrets.” Sean winked at him, slightly disturbingly, then left Charles to gain access to his memories in silence.

It was probably hours later when Charles finally got Erik alone. The last time, most likely, at this size. Soon they would be back to normal. Tall (ish) and grown and responsible. Ready to take on the world.

“I’m going to miss you,” whispered Charles, hoping that Erik caught his meaning.

Erik smiled. “There’s no need,” he responded. “We won’t be changed.” He caught Charles’ eye, silently thinking of all the little differences between them and their grown counterparts. Silently accepting them.

Charles let out a shaky breath.

“OK, let’s do this then,” and grabbing Erik’s hand pulled him outside to where Colin and Alex waited to transform them back to their old selves.


	4. Epilogue

Despite Erik’s assurances, tears were streaming down Charles’ tiny face as he watched Colin and Alex combine their powers and turn Erik back into his fully grown self. It was good to see him, of course, but he couldn’t help but morn for the little boy and the closeness they had developed while they were small.

How could Erik be sure it would stay?

As Charles wiped his eyes fiercely, keen that the students at least wouldn’t notice him getting so emotional, Erik crossed the yard to reach his side, swiftly lifting him from the ground with an ease he’d never managed before.

“I’m still the same, Charles. We are still the same,” repeated Erik. “Nothing is lost, if we choose to keep it.”

Releasing his breath slowly, Charles wrapped his short arms round his friend, and – just for a moment – rested his head against his shoulder. “OK,” he whispered.

“Go, Charles,” replied Erik, gently setting him down and nudging him across the yard, back to the spot that Erik had just vacated.

And in a flash, it was done.

Charles closed his eyes, reaching out not externally, but internally to feel the length of his limbs, the position of his feet. He didn’t know how Erik had walked so easily just moments after this, he felt as though he was going to be missing stairs and banging his head on things for days.

“Charles?”

Erik, at his side, his hand held out to guide him as reassurance. “I spent a lot of time knowing my body well,” explained his friend. “It’s my mind that feels as though it doesn’t quite fit.”

Charles smiled. “Naturally, my friend.” He grasped Erik’s arm and allowed himself to be tugged along, cautiously.

“Nothing has changed,” added Erik, as he pulled a wobbly Charles along. “I’m hoping you’re still afraid of the dark?”

“Always.”


End file.
